Beginning Anew: The Lost Boys
by streetpanther
Summary: JC Winston was the leader of the infamous street gang from Brumly, called the Street Panthers, but now he wants more in life. Will Ponyboy and Steve be able to help him?
1. Intro

Okay people, I am new to this and all. My story is one-hundred percent original (don't steal it!) It is not a stupid new kid next door story. It shows the perspective of a real hood instead of a regular greaser, and it tells a lot about Brumly. It shows what the gang is like after Dally and Johnny die (It is stupid to try and bring back to life dead characters) also the grammar and words and other stuff I use are in there because you must remember the times the gang were in. They DID NOT have such things as cordless telephones, cd players, computers, etc. and shouldn't be included in an Outsiders Fan Fiction.

That's basically all I have to say. Please R & R!

Love,

Street Panther 1


	2. A JD Named JC

JC's P.O.V.

I stepped onto the cold cement, kinda bored. The gang wasn't the same. I quickened my pace down the sidewalk, hoods I knew, waving to me. I ignored them all though and kept on walking. I didn't have to say hello to anyone if I didn't want to. After all, I was the leader of the Street Panthers. I could do what I wanted to do, and right then, I wanted to leave.

I walked about six blocks down from my apartment to the park along Maple Grove Avenue and I sat on one of the wooden benches in the park. Down here in Brumly, the hoods owned the park. In Tulsa the park was left to the lovers and little kids, but in this suburb, no such luck for the innocent.

A couple of people I knew walked by and I talked to them awhile, just to be doing something for awhile. Then Chewy Braxton walked by. Chewy was in my outfit and even though I didn't like him very much, he was one of the gang. He was about five foot six, broad shouldered and muscular and rather pudgy (hence his name, he was always eating.) He had curly, blond hair and soft blue eyes with dimples. He looked like a gilr in a lot of ways, but he was a good ol' kid in rumbles. He was sixteen and had once been a member of the Brumly Brutes gang, but their members were getting killed off.

I didn't blame the guy. If I led my gang into rumbles where they were going to die, I'd let them split. It's false courage to face death for pointless reasons. Chewy was looking his usual happy, jolly self that morning, which was making me pretty mad. Did he have the nerve to be happy when I was depressed and bored out of my mind?

"Hey JC." Chewy said to me, sitting down away from me on the bench. The gang knew I hated people being near me. It reminded me of when my parents had loved me and hugged me when I was a little kid. Now they flinched at the sight of me.

"Chewy..." I said with a grim nod. I liked to keep my reputation up for being a real jerk to all that I saw, even my so called 'friends'. "Where's the rest of the boys?" I asked, frowning. I wasn't much in the mood to talk, but I had to. I wasn't sticking around Brumly and I'd have to make one of my little thugs the new leader.

I wasn't being scared away by anything.I just didn't see the fun in running around with low lives anymore. I wanted a future, even if it wasn't a great one, but I didn't want to be marked lousy for my entire life. I wanted to make myself be something better than the rest. Being a greaser was okay, but being a hood and a JD wasn't my favorite thing in the world.

"Yeah, they're down at Erics." Chewy said, cowering. He knew I wasn't in a good mood and he knew not to mess with me. I nodded and stood up, Chewy at my heels. I just couldn't wait to leave. It wouldn't be much longer and I would be a regular, everyday greaser down in Tulsa. It wouldn't be very long, but first thing was first. I had to tell the boys........

PONYBOY's P.O.V.

"Hey Soda? Wanna play football this morning?" I asked, jumping up and down. It was Saturday at last. School had been killing me lately, ever since Johnny and Dally had died. It was okay to talk about them now, Dally and Johnny I mean, but for some reason things were still harder. Like one time I forgot where our house was and ended up at Tim Shepards. That had been one messed up afternoon, having Tim walk in to having me on his phone, trying to remember my number.

"Yeah, okay." Sodapop said, getting up from the couch where he and Two-Bit had been watching Mickey Mouse. Soda came into the kitchen and got a Pepsi out of the ice box and slugged it down. "Just wait until Steve comes up, okay little buddy?" Soda said, sitting back down on the couch.

I could hear Two-Bit bursting into laughter over something Mickey must've done. I wasn't much in the mood for Mickey that morning. It was a re-run anyway, and I couldn't stand re-runs. "Where is Steve anyway? He's usually here before Two-Bit." I asked, cocking an eyebrow because I was _finally_ able to (but not after a weeks worth of practice.)

"He was going up to Brumly on business..." Soda answered, cracking a grin. Apparently the thought of Steve being on 'business' was very funny to Sodapop. It seemed funny to me too. What kind of business would Steve have in Brumly? All there was in Brumly was rough hoods, and the only business I could think of in Brumly would involve drugs of some kind, and drugs weren't Steve's thing.

"What kind of business?" Two-Bit asked, almost reading my thoughts. He had a way of doing that sometimes, just being able to know what we wanted to ask, but were shy to say ourselves. Two-Bit just wasn't a shy guy. He could do almost anything.

"Oh, he's been showing some JD named JC around Tulsa." Soda answered, fond of his joke about a JD named JC. He liked to wise-crack, even if it wasn't as much as Two-Bit. But his jokes always seemed to be stupid or childish while Two-Bit's jokes almost made sense, at least to me they sure did, and they always had a true outlook on life somehow or another.

"Yeah, I know that JC character. He's moving into the house across from y'all's." Two-Bit said pointing to a house, way smaller than our own, just across our road. It was painted white, and the paint was starting to fade. There was a weather worn, picket fence in front and around the sides of the house and on the front lawn there was a SOLD sign.

"Yeah, I heard stories about that JC character." Darry said, walking into the living room. "And I want you to stay away from him Ponyboy. No good will come from you befriending gang leaders from Brumly..." he said to me. I wouldn't have wanted to befriend that hood anyway, I figured. I wasn't going to be a hood myself. I was going somewhere.


	3. Just Some Hood?

(6 weeks later)

JC''s P.O.V.

Today was the day when I moved into my new place down in Tulsa, and I couldn''t wait. The whole gang stood around me, grim expressions on their faces. Even though we hadn''t liked each other, I was the best leader they could find. I was wise and cunning and brave and strong and I always had a plan. But now DJ was in charge. My gang was just made up of Chewy, DJ, Peligo, Atlas and Eric and DJ had been second lieutenant, so he was the new leader and Atlas was now second lieutenant.

""Well, I guess I''ll be seein'' y''all around. I mean, I''m only down in Tulsa for Christ''s sakes!"" I said, attempting to cheer the boys up. I was actually smiling (which I hadn''t done in about six years) and the boys only seemed grim. We had been close, I mean we were friends, even though we acted like we were just in the same gang. We had always been there for each other, but maybe now I could make some real friends, I figured.

""I figger we''ll be missin'' ya, Winston."" Eric said through teary eyes. He was actually crying! Eric had always been weak, but I had never expected him to cry.

I wacked Eric in the head, affectionetaly, and said to him with a sneer, ""Ya keep cryin'' like that and I''ll have ta beat the tar outa ya."" with that and a wave, and got into this kid named Steve Randle''s car and drove on down to my new place.

PONYBOY''s P.O.V.

""Ponyboy, get inside, will ya?"" Darry said to me, pulling me into the house. I knew he didn''t want me to meet this JC kid, but he didn''t have to man handle me. I would''ve gone in on my own, even though I did want to catch a glimpse of ''Darry''s worst nightmare.''

Steve''s car pulled up about fifteen minutes later and out stepped Steve and a boy of about seventeen. He was tall, lean and slouchy like a panther, with glowering eyes and all. His hair was jet black and greased back. He was wearing a tight black shirt and straight-leg blue jeans and a pair of Chuck Taylor''s.

Steve walked up to our house. The JC kid leaned back against Steve''s car, looking around with interest. ""He ain''t as bad as he sounds, Superman."" Steve mumbled to Darry at the door. ""I mean, he moved away from Brumly for a reason.""

Darry had one of those looks on his face that covers up what he''s thinking. Maybe he was actually considering. He followed Steve outside. I could see Darry and the JC kid shaking hands, and then talking. The JC kid smiled this goofy smile that looked too big for his face. His teeth were really white for a hood, I thought sitting down next to Soda and Two-Bit. The JC kid followed Steve and Darry in after about ten minutes or so. _Well, Darry''s okay with him._..

Hey there everyone! I hope you like my story so far! Thank you Banana4422 for reviewing! I know that this story isn't stretched out so far. Please forgive me! It will get longer. I just haven't gotten the chance to write lately, but I will write more! Love, SP1


	4. Just Like Him

JC's P.O.V.

_Well, Darry seems nice enough,_ I thought, entering the Curtis's house. The Curtis brothers didn't have parents, as theirs died in a car wreck nine months ago. It was sad, yes, but I couldn't help but feel jealous of them. My own mom (I hadn't seen my dad since I was six) had flipped when I told her that I was going down to Tulsa to live. I had given her the money for the place and she had rented it, as I was too young to. She seemed good about it, but she didn't believe that I actually wanted to clean up my act, and go to college too (I had dropped out of highschool, so I would have to do night school before going to college. I wanted to be a writer and maybe own a ranch with quarter horses and Mustangs someday.)

Steve introduced me to Darry's two little brothers, Sodapop and Ponyboy, and to their friend, Two-Bit Mathews. Darry, Sodapop and Ponyboy defiantly didn't look alike at all. Darry was tall, lean and muscular with light brown hair with a slight cowlick in the back. His eyes were like two pieces of cold, greenish ice and had a determined look to them. Sodapop always had a smile on his face and he looked like a movie star. His eyes were devilish, yet sweet and I figured that the ladies probably loved them (his eyes I mean.) He had golden, brown hair that was long, silky and straight and he was rather poised for a greaser.

Ponyboy defiantly looked different from his brothers. Pony's eyes were a soft greenish gray that made him look like he was in a different world then the rest. His hair was blond and his roots were a dark brown, so I figger' his hair was dyed blond that way. He had it heavily greased back and even though it did make his hair look tougher, he still looked like a square.

Two-Bit had long, rusty-colored sideburns and a comical grin on his face. On his shirt there was a picture of Mickey Mouse and he did seem the type to be a Mickey fan, a real wise-cracker, but Chewy had been that way too.

"I'm JC Winston." I said once the boys had been introduced. Normally I would've said that my name was JC Panther, but I had to remind myself that I wasn't a Panther anymore, so I'd have to use my real name, even though JC wasn't my real name. I had it legally changed by my mother two years ago. My mom always let me do what I wanted if it was legal for her to do for me, like changing my name, or renting an apartment for me.

My real name was West, but it was a pretty dumb name. It seemed like everyone in my family had a name like that. Like my cousins name had been Dallas Winston, but he had died about a month ago (he was shot down by the cops for robbing a convenience store.) I myself was Weston Cole Winston and my father had been Davis Reilly Winston, so all of our names seemed old and western and kind of stupid. _But at least my name's not Ponyboy, _I thought smiling to myself.

"Yeah, I heard you was ol' Dallas's cousin." Two-Bit commented, cocking an eyebrow and probably looking for a resemblance. I turned away when he looked at my eyes. I hated people looking at my eyes. They were either scared, or thought I was some kind of freak and I was neither. My right eye was blazing blue, like Dally's had been, but my left eye was a smokey gray color. That was what I got for smoking horse for six years straight without any sleep or food, and I had quit the day my eye got the infection, but it had been too late. The doctor had said that it was a pretty common thing and to not worry about it, and quite frankly, I thought I looked tough, almost wild like that.

Two-Bit just smiled and said, "Wild. Like a spooked horse..." It was funny the way he had said 'horse' and I figured that he knew because he just shook his head in laughter. If I had known him, I probably would've beaten his head in then, but I doubt now I would've anyway. There was just something about that comical grin.

"Winston's tend to be wild, as Dally proved to us." Ponyboy said, unconcerned, but he seemed to be leaning forward to study my face. I couldn't blame him though. You didn't often see a face like mine, and I don't mean good looking either. I myself would've thought of me as butt ugly if it hadn't been for girls crawling over me all of the time. I had started to not wear socks and stopped showering, just to see if any would still want me. I had scars all down my right cheek from knife fights and such and my eyes were covered in my long, wild, jet black and extremely greasy hair. Not to mention that my face was oddly pointy, from my chin to my cheeks to my ears to my nose and even my teeth were pointy. Or maybe I just looked like Dallas.

"Weston Cole Winston and Dallas Logan Winston..." I said, out of the blue. I just couldn't help myself. I kind of needed their insults then, just to see if this wasn't a dream. I mean, I had never been able to have even the slightest bit of conversation with the gang. My old friends actually _grunted_ instead of talking. They _grunted_ for Pete's sakes!

"Logan?" Steve said, cracking up. "Big, tough Dallas Winston's middle name was Logan?" he asked of no one in particular. I could've slugged Steve a good one if I had wanted to, but I let it slide. After all I _had_ asked for it.

"At least his middle name isn't Tell..." Sodapop said to Steve with a grin. Two-Bit broke down in laughter, making funny remarks all the way to the floor, where he began rolling around in a fake laughter. "TELL! HA HA!" Two-Bit screamed at Steve from the floor. "Your middle name is TELL!!!"

"Oh yeah? Well you can't talk Keith Emerson Mathews..." Steve defended, frowning. _Steven Tell Randle. Hmm,_ I thought with a laugh. It suprised me how easily these kids could make me laugh, when my old friends had tried for years and didn't get so much as a cough, let alone a BOO.

"Emerson is a very dignified middle name, thank you very much..." Ponyboy said, smiling. You could tell that he was thinking whether or not it was a good idea to add a smart comment to that. Apparently he thought he was safe, for he added, "A dignified name, for a girl."

I couldn't help but smile too. I mean, what he said was the oldest joke in the book, but that Ponyboy kid was a real dreamer. A real good kid. Dreamy, artistic and good willed, and I wanted to be just like him...


	5. Truth or Dare, Hank Williams and Mickey ...

PONYBOY'S P.O.V. (Later That Day) "What?" I asked of JC, rather surprised. Why would the cool, calm and collected leader of an infamous gang want to be just like me? I was just some fourteen-year-old creep named Ponyboy, but here JC was, asking me to teach him how to be like me. Me of all people! I expected him to have some desire to live up to Dallas's legacy, but JC Panther wanting to be like me? What was so special about me anyway? _Well, you're smart, and a lot of girls think you're good looking and you're nice too. But JC? _JC wasn't what I'd call good looking, like Sodapop, but he had this aura to him that made people admire him. He just looked wild. His eyes were what made him look wild though. JC's right eye was blazing blue, and the other one was smoky gray. I hadn't noticed it before, but up close his eyes glowed, dangerously. His hair and face were wild too. His hair was jet black and long, down the nape of his neck and it stuck out evenly on either sides of his head. His shaggy bangs covered up his eyes and the bridge of his oddly pointed nose. His chin and cheeks were pointed too as were his ears, and I could've guessed easily enough that his teeth were pointed. "I said I wanna be just like you." JC persisted. When I just stood there, my mouth wide open, he persisted again, "You know. I wanna be smart and act like a gentleman and, well..." I could tell that he was actually close to tears, and it just didn't look right on his strong face. "I just wanna be... normal. I've always been pretty weird kid. I mean, I've looked wild since the age of three, and I _was _wild at eight, when I decided that I wanted to be just like Dallas." I smiled inside. Dally certainly would've been proud of JC if Dally were still alive. "And ya know what, kid?" JC asked, interrupting my thought. "I became just like him, and now that he's gone, I wanna be just like you. Other wise, I might not have anyone anymore. I don't wanna wake up knowing that I got nobody, you dig?" I nodded my head, absently. So that was his silent fear? That he would die empty-handed? I shook my head, but I smiled and closed my eyes. I had to give in. JC was persuasive. Then it came into my mind. "What did you say your name was again, JC?" I asked him and the minute I said it, I knew it sounded dumb. I mean, I had just said his name. But I meant his real name. "Your real name..." I added shortly. If he was going to be normal, he would have to have a normal name."Well, legally my real name is JC now, but I can have that changed. But it used to be Weston Cole. Or West..." 'West' said, gazing out of the window. West might have been his real name, and he might've been called JC in his gang, but to me he was a wilder version of Dally. To me, JC, or West, or whatever, to me, he was Dallas. JC's P.O.V. The Curtis's were great people. Really nice and caring. I was going to be staying for dinner and after that, we were going to play truth or dare with a group of girls, one of them being Steve's girl, Evie, and the others were a bunch of chicks that Two-Bit had dragged around. I know that truth or dare is childish, but it was fun all the same. By the end of the night, I had kissed two blondes, three brunettes and had mooned a total of eight cars on the Curtis's sidewalk. Two-Bit had come up with the most wild dares and it ended with Ponyboy almost getting laid and an angry Darry lecturing us all on all kinds of junk (I wasn't paying attention. Two-Bit was cracking too many jokes) and it all _truly _ended with us all having to go home. Steve and Evie went off to Evie's place and the other chicks went home. After Two-Bit and I said good-bye to Darry, Soda and Ponyboy, we went over to a party at some guy's place. The guy, Buck Merril, was a real asshole. I had jockeyed for Buck once before and I definitely didn't like the guy, but there was free booze and blondes, so I couldn't object. The only thing that got on my nerves was Hank Williams playing in the background: Hey, hey, good lookin',

Whatcha got cookin'?

How's about cookin' somethin' up with me?

Hey, sweet baby,

Don't you think maybe

We could find us a brand new recipe?

I got a hot-rod Ford and a two-dollar bill

And I know a spot right over the hill.

There's soda pop and the dancin's free,

So if you wanna have fun come along with me.

Hey, good lookin',

Whatcha got cookin'?

How's about cookin' somethin' up with me? "Two-Bit..." I whined as the song played. "Either turn that damn music off for me or get me a shot of Vodka." I said, still whining. Vodka would block out that damn music. I'm gonna throw my date-book over the fence

And find me one for five or ten cents.

I'll keep it 'til it's covered with age

'Cause I'm writin' your name down on every page.

Hey, good lookin',

Whatcha got cookin'?

How's about cookin' somethin' up with me? "TWO-BIT!" I bellowed, truly annoyed. He just gave me a funny look and cracked a grin, before stumbling off to get me some vodka. "Make it Citron!" I yelled at him as he went to find it. He just absent-mindedly nodded his head without a care in the world, just a grin on his face and a Mickey Mouse tee on his chest. Mickey Mouse was funny though, and about the only worth while thing on t.v. to watch. Peligo and DJ would always laugh at me for watching Mickey on a Saturday morning, but I couldn't help myself. I mean, the only thing that _they _ever watched was American Bandstand. "Here..." Two-Bit said, handing me an entire bottle of Citron. I could've jumped up and hugged him if I hadn't been at a party. I hadn't had anything to drink in ages. I had stopped going to beer blasts and parties when the gang wars died. I was just really bummed out when the wars were over. Fighting had been a passion for me, because it was the one bad thing that my mother let me do. She had even told me to fight. _Flashback: "Did those boys beat you up again?" my mom asked, handing me an uncooked steak to put over my black eye. I nodded my head, grateful for my mother's love. I had been grateful then at least. I held the steak against my eye and felt the cold blood in it. It was soothing and I had stopped crying by then. "You gotta stick up for yourself Weston Cole." My mother said gently, smiling. I smiled too even though I did cringe when she said Weston Cole. In those days I just went by West. "I am giving you permission to go out and fight! You just beat their blocks off West, and if ya find ya can't, go find your brother Ryan. I had smiled even brighter then. I had looked up to my older brother Ryan back in those days. The days before I met Dallas (I was only seven when this was happening.) "Hey West," Two-Bit said, using my 'respectable name.' "You're drunk and ya haven't even drunken from the damn bottle yet!" he said, cracking that comical grin. Two-Bit was a good ol' buddy to have, and I had to admit that, even if he annoyed me. I figured since it was the first day of us being friends that eventually I would get used to his smart-assed remarks. God, I hoped so. I didn't think I could take one more damn joke, but the vodka was helping me. Citron Vodka was just the best. It was like pop with a zing to it. It made me feel like I was a friggin' school boy again. I was feeling really jumpy. Things were starting to spin and I held onto Two-Bit for dear life. He was cracking up in laughter and I wanted to tell him to shut up, but I instead felt myself puking. Like I said, I hadn't drunken anything in a long time, and right then I had drunken way_ too much. Two-Bit was pushing me to the door and when I felt the breeze come to me I puked again. It's not a pleasant thing to meet air immediately when you're drunk. It makes you feel woozy inside. I was just getting hysterical then and started cracking up in laughter. I was just ranting and raving, but I could tell that Two-Bit thought it was funny, and was catching onto every word I said as to torture me with those words later. "Hank Williams, for Pete's Sake, Two-Bit!" I said bursting into a fit of laughter. A group of girls were watching me with what looked like interest, but I didn't care. "Yeah! Hank Williams. In that there song, they said soda pop. Maybe be should tell Soda that he was in a song so that he can sue. Ya think he'd get any money outa it?" I asked, laughing. I was own the verge of passing out and I knew it, and I laughed my head off until I did just that. Passed out cold. The ground just met me quickly and it seemed like the last thing I heard was Two-Bit's wild laughter  Thank you Banana4422 again for reviewing! I know my story is pretty lame so far, but it'll get interesting, I assure you all! Otay! Later on in the story, Ponyboy will do something rebellious (please give me suggestions of what Pony should do, should he come home drunk, or high or should he get laid or whatever!) There will be a new character, but never fear. It won't be corny, like some girl that Pony or JC falls in love with or that corny junk and it won't be one of the Curtis's long lost sisters or whatever, so don't worry.n Also I'll be adding JC's older brother, Ryan, into the story. Also, I am going to be writing a story about JC in his 'prime' (ya know, when the gang wars were still on) and that should be really interesting. The greaser gang won't be in it (sorry!) but Steve might be. Well, that's all for now! Keep reading and reviewing! Love, SP1 Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders L but I do own the drop dead gorgeous JC Panther and his friends and family. I also own any other characters you are not familiar with.


	6. Who Will Remember?

PONYBOY's P.O.V.

I laughed my head off as Two-Bit carried in a passed out 'West' and placed him gingerly on the couch. I knew that it wasn't funny that West had been drinking, but it was funny all the same because I didn't often see Two-Bit carrying guys around like a groom would his bride. When Two-Bit entered he bellowed at Sodapop and I, "Honey, I'm home!"

I was grounded for two days because of earlier events, but it didn't keep me from running out of my room when Two-Bit carried West in. West didn't look young in his slumber, as everyone else did. He looked like a wooden puppet. His face looked like a piece of wood that had been carved into. His skin was that dark, and he had so many scars.

I was kind of disappointed with West. I mean, he did say that he wanted to clean up his act, but here he was, drunk as a skunk. I would've socked him for it if I hadn't known any better then. He could probably have given Dally a run for his money in a fist fight, but I wasn't too sure. Dallas had been slouchy, like most greasers, but not too terribly skinny. Weston was twice as skinny and twice as slouchy as the average hood, but most boys from Brumly never ate more than supper everyday.

Our outfit pigged out on eggs, bacon and chocolate cake for breakfast, had chips and pepsi's for lunch and something small for dinner. I guess we ate a lot for greasers and we weren't as slouchy as hoods like the Shepards. Speaking of the Shepards, West had made a big mistake by asking Angela Shepard if she wanted to grab a coke with him at the Dingo sometime. She had come by with Two-Bit to play truth or dare with us and West had been dared to kiss her. It had been a pretty funny site, Angela with West in her arms, she had kissed him again and bellowed, "God! You're gorgeous." and that was when West asked Angela out.

I had warned him afterward, but he had just smirked and said, "Ponyboy, mind your own men." My eyes had widened and I had exclaimed, "I am _not _gay Weston Colten Winston..." I mean, I was pretty upset. Darry looked at me funny after that until I kissed this girl named Michelle, then he believed that I wasn't gay. But that Michelle girl had pushed it.

Michelle and me had to play seven minutes in heaven, and in the closet she got a little rough. When the boys had opened up the door, she was trying to unzipper my jeans, and I had just been wailing for more. She was really persuasive, but try and convince Darry. So I was still a virgin. Big deal? But I _had_ promised Michelle that we would 'talk' more later.

"You'd make a good house-wife, Two-Bit." Sodapop said, looking Two-Bit over. "In fact, I think we still have one of moms old dresses around here somewhere. Let me grab it for you Two-Bit. You can cook us dinner while Ponyboy gets JC here fixed up."

"My name is West..." came Westons faint reply. West's eye's were open now and his blue eye glowed dangerously, the way Dally's eyes used to glow. West's gray eye was just too smokey to show any emotion. It was blank and expressionless, like it was dead or something. West just seemed meaner than usual and I just figured that it was the booze. Alcohol could change people so easily that it scared me. It used to be funny sometimes to see a drunk Dallas. He would looke like a three year old, the way his eyes would droop and he would drool with his head pressed against our coffee table as to cool his head.

Dally...

A faint remembrance flashjed in my mind. I remembered when Dally had first moved here, back when he wasn't so hard. I remembered a smaller, tow-headed boy screaming profanities at Johnny's parents after they had beaten Johnny. It was funny now, but then it had been serious. We had dragged Johnny over to our house and put him on the couch to sleep.

Just then the phone had rang. It was for Dally. We had left the room when Dally glared at us, but we left Johnny there on the couch. (Mom was asleep then because she was sick and dad had been at work.)

After Dally left, I had gone in to Johnny, He was awake then, and I had asked him, "_What was that phone call for Dally about? He left right after he hung up. We didn't even see his face!"_ I had seen the look on Johnny's innocent face and had frowned. Johnny looked scared, like the world was spinning upside down.

"_Dally was crying.... He was yelling at the person on the phone. He had said, 'Why don't you leave me alone? Why do you want me back now, for god sakes. How could you?' and then he had slammed down the phone. I'm scared Ponyboy. Dally was crying!"_ Johnny said in short breaths. I didn't remember too much after that, but it wasn't too important either. The only thing that was important was that Dally had cried, but that had been soon forgotten.

But how could I forget that? Would I forget everything? I was starting to forget mom and dad, which I had thought was for the best, but would I forget Johnny and Dallas? And who would remember me when I was gone? There would be no one...

Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders, despite my feeble attempts, and I never will (boo...) The only people in this story that I own are JC, Ryan, Chewy, DJ, Atlas, Peligo, Eric, Michelle, and any other unfamiliar characters.

Thanks, y'all for reviewing. Thanks yet again Banana4422 for reviewing for about the third time. I need someone to tell me my faults, so thank ye. I'm going to introduce one more character. The character might not seem important now, but he/she will change EVERYTHING... Please, tell me what you think Ponyboy should do. Should he get drunk, high, laid, etc. PLEASE, PLEASE! Share your thoughts. That's all I guess. Oh, by the way, if there is any confusion, West and JC are the same people. Love ya, SP1 


	7. I Taught Ya Good, Kid

JC's P.O.V.

_Flashback:_

"How could you?" I demanded of Dallas. He was poking a dead cat with a stick, a bitter smile on his pale face. "You stop it!" I said, shoving Dally. He was three years older than me and a lot tougher, but he wouldn't hit me. He used to love me.

"Don't make me hurt you!" Dally warned, continuing to poke the cat with the stick. A white hot rage filled my body. I wasn't going to let him do it. I didn't even know why I cared, but I was fond of animals. More fond of animals than I was of humans actually. Everyone called me wild, and animals were wild, so I could relate. People said I looked so much like a wild Mustang horse. Like an Albino Colt, they sometimes said. My hair was that wild, I guess.

I was getting so mad at Dally though that I probably would've killed him if I had had a switchblade at the time, but I didn't. I was only nine, after all. "You stop that this instance Dallas Logan Winston, or else I'll.. I'll.... I'll fight you!" I said, balling my hands into fists. I wasn't scared of Dallas. In fact, I think he was more scared of me than I was him. Like I've said, I look wild.

"Try it." Dally said, throwing aside the stick and shoving me. "Come on, try it, ya little wimp. Come on! Fight me!" and before Dally knew it, I had him on the ground and I was pounding the shit out of him.

"Get the hell off of me! Dallas had screamed, flailing under my weight. "Get the hell off of me, you ungrateful brat. Get off!" Reluctantly I calmed down and stood up. I gave Dally a hand up and to my surprise, through his bleeding lip and nose and his swollen eye, he was grinning with pride.

"I taught ya good kid. I taught ya good." Dally said, rubbing my head hard, but affectionately. "I taught ya good..."

**Disclaimer: You know the drill. I do not own the Outsiders and I never will. I do however own Jet Cet (JC) and his friends that you don't recognize.**

**Padfoot-kln: Thanks for the flames! I needed to use the Hank Williams song, because it _is _a trait at Buck Merril's place. I have read one of Tensleep's stories which is where I got Tell from, but the rest is a coincidence, I swear!** **Also, I'll get right on fixing chapter five. Thanks!**

**Rocker Dunn: Same for you. Logan I got from watching the X-Men last night. It sounded like a good middle name for Dallas. Cole I got from Colten, Cole is just short for Colten and JC is the name I've been going by for three years now. I haven't read Tensleep's story with JC in it, so sorry.**


	8. ByeBye

Many years passed, Two-Bit and JC died of alcohol poisoning, Darry died of a heart-attack, the DX that Steve and Sodapop worked at blew up and they were both killed and Ponyboy was raped and killed, just like the little pussy deserved.

THE END

A/N: Okay, a disappointing ending, but I admit it, I have turned to the Dark-Side! That's right, I am now writing Star Wars Fan Fiction; forgive me!

If anyone wishes to continue this story, they can take the idea, the characters, whatever, go for it!

Thank you, my faithful reviewers, I bid ye ado...

Street Panther #1


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